Ode to Joseph K

When I was a girl, I decided I was not the marrying kind. Marriage was for women with no ambition, no spark. I, on the other hand, had DREAMS. I imagined myself blissfully single till at least 35, traipsing around the globe, leaving one conflict zone for another, romancing Nigel (the dashing British relief pilot I had met at an ex-pat bar), always leaving but promising to come back with a wink and a smile. I would settle in Manhattan, and eventually share my three-bedroom apartment with Nigel, never marrying, but happily co-habitating. With this fantasy in mind, I carefully charted out my career: law school, domestic non-profit, international NGO, the U.N.

Four years into my stint at the non-profit, and still at the beginning of my career, I found myself emotionless. For four years, I had thrown all my emotion into work, crying over it, wrestling with it in my head, having nightmares about it, leaving nothing for myself. Was this what I wanted for myself? A life of devotion to "the cause," pumped by a cold heart? Moreover, where was Nigel?

I never found Nigel. Never worked abroad, never drank whiskey at an ex-pat bar. But I did find a sweet, loyal, solid man who makes me feel like the girl who had dreams of being something bigger than herself. Who makes me feel like I can still run away at a moment's notice. And I'm marrying him.

M, who decided long ago that she was not the marrying kind, is getting married. And she can't fucking wait.